Ornamental

  i've spent all of today trying to remedy an online connection with my little iphone, having been away from home for five weeks and only walking back through my own front door last evening.  i realize now how dependent i 've become on that tiny little screen, on its convenience, its rapid connection to the world beyond my front porch.  it's been far too easy and too subtle a change for me to notice how drastically the shift has affected me, my writing, my jewelry, my life.  no longer do i set aside a morning and take an hour or two or three to compose a blog post, edit and share photos, document my days with little notes scrawled on scraps of paper here and there.  take that a step farther, and consider the quiet life i now live out in the woods, next to no one, in a little log cabin with only the heartbeat of walter to remind me that i am not entirely alone in my status as a living creature walking through the nights and days.  i spent five weeks away with my mother, focused mostly on her and on my time soaking up her presence and company; we rose and ate breakfast together, sat and worked quietly in the afternoon, drank cocktails in the evening and ate the meals that we prepared as a team.  old movies and british crime series were our selected choices for viewing; we laughed, we told each other stories, we wept when there was a sudden death of a friend's child, we put our heads together to come up with a way to honor our friend and the memory of her son with the purchase of a small red bud tree.  i was not alone in my thoughts for much of that time, not at all.  i didn't post many photographs on instagram, i didn't visit friends, i only stuck close to her at home and walked the pups, gathered her mail, made grocery and wine runs, hung her easter wreath, wiped down the front door with orange oil, planted things in pots out on the patio.  i scrubbed the bird bath, pulled weeds, spread pine straw, and walked the dogs some more.  now, back here at home, i'm walking in circles - feeling more than a little bit lost and ever thankful for that precious time - and have spent most of this afternoon sprawled out on my bed with windows briefly open to the broadening bird song, the gusty breeze.  my open suitcase, still stuffed with the clothes that it held all that time, yawns at me from the bedroom floor.  walter follows me from room to room, and as i write this, he is stretched out on the bed right next to me, one paw nearly touching my own thigh.   during this quiet afternoon with my laptop before me here on the bed, i've wandered back to spring photos that were taken in april of 2012.  my father had been gone for nearly a year, and i was still struggling to find my footing again after such a tremendous loss.  there is a writer - an incredible author - who lives right here in my own community, and when he spoke to a group downtown, i was thrilled to be able to go.  i almost wrote the word "stupidly" when i began a sentence describing the book above, and my decision to make it for this man.  there was a good bit of time involved in putting the piece together, and when i presented it to him after his reading, blushing and stammering like an awkward school girl, he looked at me as if he weren't quite sure what to think of my gift.  i saw him again the following year, and he didn't even remember.  i did this for a reknowned poet as well, back in 2008 or 2009.  and for others as well, long gone from my life.  i wish i had those art books for myself, now.  i no longer take the time to make these things, and kept only the few that i made to honor milestones in my life, my boys' lives; some of those i even gave to family members as gifts.  where has this earlier, younger artist version of myself disappeared?   does anyone ever look back on their older work and wonder where the common thread remains, if it is even still woven through?  does anyone stumble upon old photographs of past loves and think, do they truly remember me?  does the air still smell as fragrant there as it once did?  do the flowers still bloom, and shimmer, then fade and quietly flutter and fall to cover the spring grounds below?  do those trees still grow there, where the magic hour sun shone through?     this afternoon has faded now into early evening.  the suitcase still gapes before me, the last western sunlight has shifted and passed across the folded clothes and now fades on the wooden door.  the house is quiet; walter dreams.  i avoid the mirror that tells me how many bits and pieces of myself i've worn down and lost here and there along the way.   tomorrow i head back down the stairs to straighten the studio, clear out the cobwebs, and head into that new direction where my heart and my older fingers are telling me to go.  gemstones have been gathered that speak of landscapes, and of the ocean, and the forests, and the smoky rippling mountains that surround me.  
  to work honorably with them, i need the proper tools, and an open heart, to forge cautiously ahead.  i know i can do it; i'm eager to make a new start again.  spring is almost here, and whispers softly to me of all of these things.  i stand out on the front porch, gulping in that smell of new and growth and change, and i whisper along with all of it, and repeat those budding words with some of my own in a rhythmic mantra sing-song lullaby:  be kind, love all, do not forget your dreams.  do not forget to dream.  xx

i'm really pleased and excited to announce that i will once again be teaching a jewelry workshop in the lovely NC coastal town of Wilmington, May 2-3.  the class will be held in the sweet studio of my artist friend, Kim Beller - who out of the blue texted me yesterday morning and asked when i would like to come back for another weekend of teaching techniques, camraderie, and creativity.  i love Wilmington, love the ten minute drive to the beach, love being able to visit with my son Roy, love being able to bring walter along for the fun.  the November 2013 group of gals was especially lovely, and Kim provided an encouraging and supportive atmosphere where we could all share and learn together.  

   this time around, i'll be sharing a wonderful net-wrapping technique that is easy on the hands and provides a wonderful look and tactile touch to focal treasures that are transformed into beautiful keepsake pieces of jewelry.  since we have two full days, we will be able to spend ample time learning and honing the netting technique before launching into the necklaces (or bracelets) that each of us will design with our own unique looks. (please see note at bottom).  this is wonderful for bits and pieces gathered on the seashore - small driftwood sticks, shells, worn beach glass, little bottles of sand.     we will spend a good amount of time discussing how to pull assorted treasures from the backs of drawers or shelves and create an "inspiration board" or montage tray that will help us find ways to bring a certain look or group of colors together into a unified jewelry design.    even the much larger bits from nature - pine cones, chunky driftwood bits, porcelain hands, hanks of beads - can all serve as catalysts for designs that might be forming in the subconscious corners of our minds.

  i'm greatly looking forward to being with a group of kindred spirits on the coast of my beloved north carolina in the lovely spring month of may.  after a long and difficult winter, this will be a glorious way to celebrate growth, newness, rebirth that always come with spring.  the details have yet to be ironed out, but please let me know that you are interested.  three people have already claimed spots, three more are waiting for workshop details and are certain they will attend.  this leaves six more spots....
i'll be travelling all day tomorrow.  if you wish to email kim for further details, her email address is [email protected] and mine is [email protected] - the cost will be $320.00 for two days, which will include the use of kim's work space and assorted snacks/drinks.  there are ample hotels in the area, and kim would be happy to advise on those choices for what is near her home.  i'll be back here with a clearer description of the workshop, and a materials list, later this week.  til then

(* i wanted to add this morning before i hit the road that this workshop is open to all levels of experience, beginners on up.... several of you had written to express concern that you might not be at an appropriate level to take the class, but i can assure you that you are!  the workshop size is small - 12 maximum - and i will spend a lot of one on one time working with each of you.  you needn't spend any more or less time than you wish on any one technique.  the whole concept of this workshop is to create a meaningful piece of jewelry that tells your own story, whether it be with simple strung seashells, hammered word pieces, embroidered bits of cloth components.  the wire netting technique is something that i've been utilitizing in my own jewelry for the past months, and have had quite a few folks ask if i would ever teach them how to weave it. 

the price for the two day workshop is $320.  i'm offering an early bird special through April 5, Easter Sunday, of $295.00 for those of you who sign up and pay between now and the 5th.  after that, the price will be $320.  all payments must be made in full.  in the event of an unforeseen emergency with kim or myself, all payments will be fully refunded.  cancellations by students after a certain date - i'll determine that tomorrow - will be unrefundable, outside of a serious emergency, simply for the benefit of students on a waiting list who would need to make their own plans to come.  i'll be creating a paypal button, with a direct link to paypal, for you to use.  thanks so much!  

  when last i posted here, or so i hear, it was all the way back in august, when summer was still hovering around the cabin heavy and wistful, full of memory and longing for much more of the same.  somehow i managed to put Ornamental off to the side, forgotten and forlorn, and tumbled madly along with the flow of the days that led us directly into fall, and now straight into winter.  the solstice is sunday, when sunlight is thin and watery and in short supply... when candles will be lit at dusk and blown out at evening's end.  i'd love to spend a full evening sitting right here at the laptop, tapping out accounts of where i've been, what has kept me away, what tasks have been completed, what goals have been met.  it's quite late, though - nearly 2am - and sleep is calling my name.  

it has, as ever, been a hectic time.  it always is, for all of us.  and now, here i sit at my creaky old oak table, knowing that if i don't write this post before i head to bed, christmas will swoop in, then new year's, and then i will have gone clear through the end of this year without having stopped by to say hello.  hello, old friends.  hello.

   i haven't made many things for myself, these past few years - the cobbler's children having no shoes, the jeweler wearing no trinkets of her own - but back in the fall, i slowly pulled together a necklace that turned out to be somewhat of a self portrait, and i am so very very very fond of it.  there is old leather, a river stone that i carved into a heart, a tiny fold out accordian book from a project many years ago.  there is the very first chain that i made, two years ago, out of copper when i took a private soldering class over in tennessee.  there is mica, there is old text, there is a thimble with old lace.  most importantly, there is a bundle of tendril roots, pulled from the edge of the river, where woods and stone and sand and water meet.  i'm not going to show you the entire piece, because it will be featured with other pieces of my work in a designer article of Belle Armoire Jewelry, in their spring issue, out sometime in later winter, i suppose.  so, that is a bit of news for you - something of which i am proud to be a part.     a couple of months ago, my artist friend delila, from finland, invited me to take a photo of that moment - and here is what was on the table before me, down in the studio.  i was pulling bits and pieces together for the article, using some components from unfinished long ago projects that i combined with fresher approaches of mine.  how interesting it was for me to see it all together, like that - the old and the new (and all of it old, in a way, as i always use so many antiquated things), hammered and aged and twisted and painted, wire-wrapped and threaded into something that looks completely like my work.  old.  new.  and somewhere in between.  i haven't changed all that much.  i seem to be consistent in my design, and in my style.  and i find great comfort in this - the ability to pull a body of work together and have it be cohesive and unified, like that.  a good and solid feeling, i have to say.   back in november - i think it was november - i finally, FINALLY sat down and constructed some lengths of chain, from scratch.  silver soldered, sterling chain.  and oh my goodness, how happy i am with this!  from there, i ventured on to set a stone in a bezel on my own.  i had done this once before, in the Franklin, Tn. studio of my excellent weekend teacher Nancy Rourke; but that was with her supervision, an oval black stone on a scrap bit of copper, and for two long years, i pined to do it again.  i'm still pining, and still fumbling, but i've done a decent job, as you can see above, with the one stone i set with a lovely scalloped edge.  and it has actually already sold, to a very wise customer who understands how much that piece has meant to me, how proud i am of my efforts.  onward, then - and after christmas, and an early january trip back down to key west for another go at the literary seminar (but NO go at a poetry workshop), i greatly anticipate settling back down at the studio table to focus on more chain, more bezels, more pieces of new and old ornamental history.    i can't wrap up this post without mentioning how lovely the thanksgiving holiday was for me here, at Heartrock Hill.  my mother and her corgi were here, as well as both boys, and the wonderful girlfriend that roy has been dating for three years.  and finally, my dearest friend julie, who has spent the past three thanksgivings with my family, came down from ohio and managed - when i became quite ill - to clean and orchestrate and cook for all six of us, including the entire thanksgiving feast.  she put sheets on the beds, inflated the air mattresses, ran errands, walked walter, cooked, cooked, cooked, and cleaned up the kitchen afterwards.  there was a little oven fire - i laugh out loud as i write those words - and a lot of laughter and storytelling, a good bit of spirits, and a whole lot of love.  i have the best friend in the whole world, and the best boys, and the best, best, best mama that anyone could ever be blessed enough to have.  it was grand, in spite of how puny i felt.  absolutely grand.  and walter was worn out from it all.

now, here we are, smack dab in the middle of the holiday season.  as i said, from summer, to autumn, to now.  we had snow here on thanksgiving morning, and lots of frosty mornings, and any day now i expect the heavier snows to roll up over the mountains to the west.  i wanted to mention that there are all of five necklaces in my etsy shop - and that i'm offering for the next two days, a discount of 20% to my ornamental readers (use the code ORNA20 in the place where you are asked if you have a gift card or discount code).  after friday evening, i'll be closing the shop for the rest of the holidays, and reopening sometime in the early part of january, when things are quieter and we can take a slow breath without gasping for another right behind.  i wanted to take a moment - at 1:45 a.m., actually - to wish all of you a lovely time with family and friends, whether it be there in your homes or off on adventures, or even if you - like i, most of the time - are alone and quiet in some deep, dark glen of the winter woods, sitting in front of a fire, reading or working quietly with your hands.  i wish you peace and calm and quiet pockets of time.  i wish you clarity in the months ahead.  i wish you love.  i wish you grace.  and i thank you for being here still, even when i have not been present for such long and crazy stretches of delinquent time.  bless you all.  xo

   well, it happened:  we all blinked, and august arrived.  just like that, quietly, it came and it is here and soon it will be gone.  i made that wonderful list of things back in the first of june - the list of things i wanted to accomplish before the month was out.  i think i tackled maybe three things - five or six at most - before june disappeared altogether.  poof!  it was gone.  i had such good intentions.  embroidery, flower pressing, watercolor painting, book reading, jewelry making, trips, visits, baking, growing, walking, wandering.  i have wandered.  walter and i do that every day.  we walk down Wooded Way til we get to Little Meadow; i stoop and snip a wildflower or a few, or sometimes an entire bouquet, and walter sniffs and sniffs some more, or leaps through grass that has grown taller than his head.  he doesn't care.  the other day he found a turkey feather, and began to chew on its tip.  i carried it home and stored it safely in the antique trophy cup that daddy once found under a house that he tore down.  a good while back (i had to erase "a few months ago"), back in the early part of november, a sweet friend gave me a little hardbound book of shakespeare's Merchant of Venice that was printed in the earliest 1900's, long long ago.  this morning i picked it up to flip through the pages once again, and was amused to find the drawing above.  bad boy.  i hadn't noticed that insect on the woman's leg until i snapped the photograph and edited it for the piece of jewelry.  it makes me smile, and i smile thinking about the friend i wanted to go see this first week of the last month of summer.  plans were scrambled, and now i can't go.  shakespeare, an insect, a woman's Mary Janes, words scrawled in pencil in the back of a book.  click.  a day passes.  click.  a season disappears.  click.  children have grown.  click.  click.  click.

  i've spent the past fifteen minutes trying to transfer a couple of summery images from my phone to this laptop.  it isn't happening, and supper preparation calls.  walter is staring at me, that look i call The Whammy.  he wants to walk down to the meadow.  i understand.  i'll come back and show you the barn after a summer rain, another time.  for now, have a dose of summer sky blue, something that completely captured my fancy at the gem and mineral show this time around.  pendants are now listed, over in my etsy shop - the blues of lace agate and chalcedony, the mossy, woodland green of sun-dappled peridot.  go see.  xo

ps.  here you go.  i pulled up at the bridge after driving robin to the airport.  it had rained.  i was missing my boys.  what a soft and comforting view to greet me upon turning off the paved road to head 'round the barn and on up to my sweet little cabin, on heartrock hill....x